


The Best Revenge is Living Well

by 1PB2PB3PB4



Category: You Yao | (有药) | Are You OK (Cartoon), You Yao | (有药) | Are You OK (Qi Ying Jun)
Genre: Canon Temporary Character Death, Captivity, Character Study, Exploration, Gen, POV Prince Yu | Zhou Rongqi, Transmigration, because canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1PB2PB3PB4/pseuds/1PB2PB3PB4
Summary: Liu Wenzhong is dead and there's an imposter in his body.Maybe Zhou Rongqi can't live for Liu Wenzhong, but he can get his revenge.The prince's POV of chapters 5-8/Li Ke's arrival and first death in ancient China.
Relationships: Prince Yu | Zhou Rongqi & Li Ke, Prince Yu | Zhou Rongqi & Liu Wenzhong, Prince Yu | Zhou Rongqi/Liu Wenzhong (implied)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	The Best Revenge is Living Well

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think anyone is actually going to read this because this fandom is baby but like have at. I read this book in about 30 hours and it broke me.  
> It's the prince's POV of chapters 5-8 and most dialogue is taken directly from the translation by Jiang Xiaoya.

Liu Wenzhong is dying, and that’s painfully clear for Zhou Rongqi to see. His…  _ distant friend _ is playing the flute and his eyes are trying to smile, but Zhou Rongqi can hear the wheeze in his chest as Liu Wenzhong draws in breath after breath.

“I’m going to kill him for you,” Zhou Rongqi whispers, aware of the guards on his door. He knuckles his hands over the sides of his chair, Jingyi has gone too far now. Let him die, let his son feel some of what Zhou Rongqi has felt for  _ decades _ .

Liu Wenzhong stops playing his flute with a soft “toot” sound and looks across from him. Opens his mouth to speak, but even that seems to take too much out of him. Instead Liu Wenzhong just shakes his head desperately and his eyes go wide.

Zhou Rongqi tries to stare him down, cuts his eyes like ice into Liu Wenzhong who just shakes his head once more. He blinks once, squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier,” he mutters, lip curling as he tries to hold his reserved mask together. “I’m so sorry.”

“Pay me back then.  _ Live _ for me!” Liu Wenzhong gasps letting go of his flute. “Rongqi, please don’t-”

Liu Wenzhong falls back, and quicker than he thought he could move, Zhou Rongqi darts out to catch Liu Wenzhong’s head before it bangs against the floor. Then he settles back into his chair and looks at the corpse of his best friend with an emotionless mask. His best friend dried out, and sickened. Oppressed and weakened and driven away by the Emperor, living on the streets and in brothels when he should have been living a life of plenty.

A life with Zhou Rongqi.

Zhou Rongqi won’t go against Liu Wenzhong. He won’t kill the emperor for him. Zhou Rongqi will kill the Emperor for himself. Of course such a plan might-

Liu Wenzhong’s head lifted from the ground.

For a moment Zhou Rongqi held his breath and dared hope, keeping his face as impassive as ever. No point in scaring Liu Wenzhong if-

“Where am I?” poured out of Liu Wenzhong’s mouth, but it wasn’t his voice. Zhou Rongqi is a smart man, the answer presents itself pretty quickly. A traveller.

Of course, considering the way his life has gone why shouldn’t some random person animate the corpse of his best friend? But maybe he could use this.

Zhou Rongqi bit his tongue and allowed the traveller to continue to speak.

“Why does this place look like ancient China? How did I get here? Who are you? Is this some sort of cosplay?” Zhou Rongqi watched him a little longer, intrigued by the genuine confusion he saw, but clearly the traveller was unsettled by his silence

“Say something!” the imposter in Liu Wenzhong’s body shouted, so unlike him. It makes it easier to look at him, when he’s so clearly different like this.

“Nowadays, it’s rare to see reactions like yours, people who came here in recent years were all very groundlessly confident, and the first thing they’d ask is whether they transmigrated or not.” Zhou Rongqi calmly informs the traveller as he keeps sipping his tea. He’s deciding how much it is worth to inform this man of the situation.

Obviously Zhou Rongqi is supposed to report him, as a traveller, to the Emperor.

Except that on the best of days toeing to his brother’s line fills him with rage. The idea of handing over a traveller in Liu Wenzhong’s body to  _ god knows what _ fate, and having his brother know that he’d succeeded in destroying Zhou Rongqi’s life. Jingyi would probably devise something extra cruel just to mess with him.

The thought makes him want to cough up something bloody and foul.

He informs the traveller of some of the bare bones of the matters of the situation. Applies a small threat, and drinks his tea to make it clear who’s in charge here. Zhou Rongqi still hasn’t entirely decided what he wants to do quite yet.

He just knows that this isn’t Liu Wenzhong. No matter what he looks like, or how he looks up at him. But he is in Liu Wenzhong’s body, and he is not turning him over.

Then he’s summoned to a meeting of imperial princes, the old Emperor is dying.

Well. There’s one potential use that is coming to mind. He supposes he will have to see if this traveller has any skills.

* * *

Without really meaning to Zhou Rongqi asks the traveller if he can play the flute. Maybe he wants to hear it one last time, maybe he wants to parade this traveller in front of the Emperor and have him think that Liu Wenzhong  _ lived _ .

The man who is not Liu Wenzhong cannot play, and he is both grateful and angered. Because it’s just one more way this man is different from his- from  _ Liu Wenzhong _ , his best friend and most treasured-

They are two different men, and the differences just make it easier to distinguish between them.

Then the Traveller who is  _ not _ Liu Wenzhong bares a shoulder and an offer to seduce.

Despite himself his gut clenches, and he hates himself a little. Because this is Liu Wenzhong’s body, but it’s not his soul, and  _ this _ man is clearly scared and panicking, and Liu Wenzhong had to do this and-

It’s too much to try and process, too much to keep up the mask, so he channels it into anger and smiles.

“Guards,” he calls, not taking his eyes off this man who is  _ wrong _ . The traveller begs and falls to his knees but Zhou Rongqi doesn’t blink and refuses to allow himself to be moved. He has his own prisons, no need for Liu We- the traveller to languish in one of his brother’s.

The traveller shrieks, trying to save his soul. But he’s died once, and there’s no reason that Zhou Rongqi can see why  _ he _ in particular should get another life. Not if he’s going to  _ warm beds _ and look like him but not be him.

Not if Zhou Rongqi can’t use him.

“I can cook! I can speak English, Hello-”

Zhou Rongqi pauses. Liu Wengzhong had never cooked for him, he hadn’t been able to cook when they were kids at least. A plan is forming too, a chef, and a chef with Traveller knowledge. Zhou Rongqi has all kinds of access to Emperor banquets and kitchens.

Liu Wenzhong hadn’t cooked and this is a different man but he could be useful.

“You can cook?” he asked, as the guards ceased to drag his friend’s body along the palace floor.

There’s a telling pause, and then the Traveller says “Yes.” With the sort of bald faced determination that Liu Wenzhong would use when they were little and was desperately trying to keep selling a lie that Zhou Rongqi had exposed.

Zhou Rongqi excuses himself while the traveller cooks.

He allows himself to shed  _ exactly _ four tears and one shout muffled by a pillow. Then he pulls himself together into a state suitable for dinner. 

The food is about as awful as he was expecting, possibly more so. This is clearly not a man who’s been pushed to the fringes of society for the past decade or so of his life. A single mouthful and his tongue is being assuaged by the revolting conflicting flavours of ash, cinders, egg and the cramping pain of a jaw full of salt.

“Pooh,” he manages in a composed voice, even as his throat protests. He doesn’t look as his guards drag the man away.

Let any spies report  _ this _ .

He finds the Traveller in the dungeons later that evening, and his  _ real _ plan begins. There are no new toxic food combinations that this man knows- possibly there are no toxic food combinations at  _ all _ .

There are specific mushrooms though, and ones that won’t kill you until days after.

The Emperor will pay for what he has done, and how fitting that it is Jingyi’s own actions that have given Zhou Rongqi this opportunity.

He transfers the Traveller to a guest room, and then locks him up and avoids him. The Traveller is but a dead man walking, it would be best not to get too close.

(Too attached. He can’t lose Liu Wenzhong again, even though he’s not Liu Wenzhong.)

* * *

He’s not sure when he becomes fond of the Traveller and not just the fact that sometimes he could still pretend Liu Wenzhong was alive.

Maybe after the first time the man told Zhou Rongqi to his face that he knew he was going to kill him so he didn’t see the point. But not in a wheedly way, not asking for something. Just simple fact like laying out a truth or a bargain.

Zhou Rongqi gives him two months and wonders if he’ll have the strength to stick to it. To actually kill off this man who offers him mushrooms that he uses to try and poison rats, and still can’t fucking cook mushrooms despite that being what he does all day.

The traveller knows his plan, and he doesn’t know if he’s glad or angry. His plan flutters before him, but the traveller seems content enough to go along with it, so Zhou Rongqi is content enough to let him live. 

He’s visiting him more often, he supposes it would be better for morale.

Zhou Rongqi is laughing and the Traveller thinks Zhou Rongqi will destroy the world. It’s not just the face, it’s how the Traveller  _ uses _ it, and he’s struck with the uncomfortable memory of Liu Wenzhong’s panicked silent begging for him not to kill the Emperor.

Zhou Rongqi stops laughing, and soon enough he takes his leave.

The second time the Traveller brings up that he is going to die it is most definitely a bargain. It’s-

Zhou Rongqi doesn’t  _ care _ if it’s like Liu Wenzhong or not. This is a different man and it’s time that Zhou Rongqi owns that.

_ Live for me _ , Liu Wenzhong had said. Zhou Rongqi had never allowed himself friends after Liu Wenzhong had been cast out, not again. The Traveller has a bold brashness that Liu Wenzhong had never had, as he  _ demands _ to be taken to the town.

Zhou Rongqi agrees because he has promised himself that he’s going to kill the Emperor and he needs the traveller for that. It’s not because he’s overly attached or amused. This man is a prisoner of his, it is  _ wrong _ for him to care.

So he doesn’t. Just about the body, just about the vessel, just about his plan.

* * *

The Traveller wants to go to a whorehouse. He’s no amateur, so his lips don’t twitch, and he’s  _ not supposed _ to care. But it’s a close run thing. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, except that he’s long past showing his emotions in public so he does neither.

It’s not like the traveller  _ knows _ where Zhou Rongqi found his body but-

“Let’s go to the whorehouse,” the Traveller says again, as if he could have missed it.

“I heard you,” he hears himself say distantly, and then they’re on their way there, the Traveller twitching at his side.

* * *

First he wants to sleep, and then he’s asking what the noises the girls in the rooms are making. Zhou Rongqi isn’t sure if the Traveller is actually this sheltered or is just trying to play the fool. Regardless the whole thing is moving far too fast.

“We’d like to sit and chat,” he states pleasantly but firmly. He doesn’t need to give the Traveller a chance or an opportunity to get away from him, and there are plenty of half naked girls cavorting around in the main room- if that’s  _ really _ why the traveller came here.

If the idea of Liu Wenzhong’s- Liu Wenzhong going off upstairs with a strange young woman unsettles something in him then he doesn’t show it, and he doesn’t pay the thought any mind either.

Some drunk minor employee of his- or rather his  _ father _ is an employee of his- comes wondering in, reeking of drink and with an air of entitlement that makes Zhou Rongqi bristle when he’s in a place like this.

Zhou Rongqi averts his eyes and keeps drinking, looking down and away as he starts to fondle the Traveller’s hand. It’s not his business, and he doesn’t care. It’s not his  _ right _ .

This isn’t Liu Wenzhong- and it’s not like they’d ever really  _ really _ had anything. What this Traveller wants to do is up to him, and maybe it’s time he learnt a little something about who he is and his status.

How much he needs Zhou Rongqi and that no one is really waiting to save him. The Traveller might see this as a way out, as if unaware of the fact that Zhou Rongqi is a  _ prince _ and very few people would be able to out manoeuvre him.

He has no  _ right _ to have his chest clench and gut roil as a drunkard drapes himself around, what was, Liu Wenzhong’s body like he’s done it before. The thing is, Zhou Rongqi is startled to realise, this body now truly belongs to the Traveller. Zhou Rongqi sits there, still as a statue and wonders if it would be overkill to snap Second young Master Wu’s fingers for the presumption of touching him, a Prince.

His brother would do it, he thinks distantly. That doesn't inherently make it wrong though, just unappealing.

He doesn’t do anything though. The Traveller wanted a trip out, and Zhou Rongqi won’t do anything to damage that. Besides he  _ really _ can’t be bothered to cause a scene with his guards in the middle of a whorehouse over a man who shouldn’t exist.

“I want to treat Young Master Liu to a cup of wine, this brother wouldn’t mind it, would you?” the Wu cretin draped around the man opposite like he  _ owns _ him. But asking for permission like he thinks  _ Zhou Rongqi _ owns Liu Wenzhong’s body. The Traveller’s body.

“I would,” he says as casually as if remarking on the weather. Inside his insides pulse with hot rage and icey nausea. He thinks of Liu Wenzhong being here, hungry and ill and unable to get away. Having to say yes and play the flute for lazy pieces of shit.

The Wu cretin calls for his guards and then grabs for the Traveller. Zhou Rongqi is not proud of it, but all he can see at that moment is his brother, and Liu Wenzhong, and them being separated  _ all over again _ .

This is the moment when he decides he is going to let the Traveller go. Life is wasted on Zhou Rongqi, it’s something he’s always sort of felt. Not as wasted as it is on his  _ brother _ , but wasted nevertheless. There’s no point in him living for Liu Wenzhong when he could let the Traveller live instead.

Zhou Rongqi’s guards are unfalteringly loyal and highly efficient, there is a reason he has employed them after all. Wu’s guards drop pretty much instantly on Zhou Rongqi’s barely noticeable signal. His guards had made short work of them.

Before anyone can start screaming, or really processing what’s going on, before any of the workers come over and start to cause  _ issues _ , Zhou Rongqi takes Liu- takes the  _ Traveller's _ hand and pulls him out. He pulls him away from Wu and out of the whorehouse. His guards can deal with the cleanup.

The Traveller’s hand is warm in his grasp.

  
  


Then the Traveller is letting go before flinging himself onto Zhou Rongqi, calling him “Master” and making kissing noises, like Zhou Rongqi  _ owns _ him.

(With the way he’s been treating the Traveller is it really so  _ wrong _ ? He feels a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe it’s not just Wu who feels this way.)

* * *

When they are leaving the brothel; the Traveller asks who Liu Wenzhong was to him, and Zhou Rongqi has felt vulnerable enough for a single day.

A distant friend, he says. No real words that wouldn’t leave him exposed and raw could sum up Liu Wenzhong.

“Why were you so calm when he died?” The Traveller keeps pressing, a thumb on a burn, as if this is some conspiracy or something. Not as if Zhou Rongqi hasn’t been holding himself so tightly together as he watched his mother bleed out of seven orifices, his younger brother long dead and his older half brother watching his best friend with a kind of unholy interest.

“Great sadness comes with no tears, great insight with no words,” he says flatly, uninterested in pursuing this avenue further. Crying would not bring back Liu Wenzhong, it would not help him, and it would just invite questions and prying.

He does not need to emote to feel. It’s true.

That’s when the Traveller turns on him with eyes too sharp and cockily points out that his guards don’t know of any  _ friendship _ , distant or otherwise between him and Liu Wenzhong. He suspects that the Traveller is drawing his own conclusions, matched with the brothel and Zhou Rongqi’s reticence on this subject.

Not everyone is his brother, not everyone wants to strip him of everyone he cares about. He reminds himself. But that lesson is ingrained deep within him. His eye twitches.

The Traveller is clearly trying to irritate him, he demands clothes and food and attention; once he ceases with the questions.

Zhou Rongqi absently-mindedly indulges him. He’ll take this affection even though it’s not Liu Wenzhong, and then they’ll return to the palace and maybe Zhou Rongqi will let him go.

The Traveller sings like a yowling cat, out of tune and painful to the ears. It’s easily one of the worst things Zhou Rongqi has ever heard,  _ utterly _ unmusical.

He wasn’t even aware someone could mangle Liu Wenzhong’s vocal chords so  _ horribly _ .

He doesn’t know if he’s laughing or crying as a noise escapes from him without his permission for the first time in _seventeen_ _years_.

Liu Wenzhong is  _ gone _ , this is not Liu Wenzhong. This is very much someone else who’s so fucking  _ shameless _ and confident, and easy going. With an audacity and a boldness so refreshingly unique. Who’s trampling all over Liu Wenzhong’s musical talents and forging his own place within the body he’s stolen.

He doesn’t know if he’s laughing or crying. He doesn’t know if he’s glad or happy. If he wants to shake the Traveller until he stops breaking the illusion of Liu Wenzhong. If he wants to thank him for shattering this illusion for good.

The Traveller is singing about living for 500 years and Zhou Rongqi feels a confused anger filling up the gaping chasm within his soul.

“What’s the meaning of living that long? All your family members and friends died, are you staying behind to keep their graves?” Zhou Rongqi asks bitterly, he’s not even lived for thirty years and he’s already outlived everyone he’s cared about. Sometimes he thinks he can’t wait for it to be over.

“What you said sounds reasonable. But compared to two months, I’d rather live for five hundred years.” The Traveller shoots back pointedly, still as bold and fearless as ever. Driving bargains and staring him down.

He’ll let the Traveller live, the Traveller who’s very much his own person and not Liu Wenzhong, but who maybe Zhou Rongqi could - not  _ care,  _ that’s too  _ dangerous _ \- but vaguely bother about.

“Everyone dies. You already died once before you transmigrated, did you feel anything?” he deflects, curiosity overtaking him, and wanting to distract the Traveller.

“I can’t remember. Closed and opened my eyes, then I’m here,” the Traveller responded at last, after a thoughtful pause.

“Thus perhaps those who died, opened their eyes in another world too.” He thinks of Liu Wenzhong in another world, hopefully one that would be kinder to travellers than this one. One where he could be healthy and free.

It’s the kind of wishful naivety for children and he squashes it down to be broken out of his musings by the Traveller.

“Good,” the Traveller says as if coming to a decision in his head.

“What is good?” he asks, eying the Traveller sharply, suddenly suspicious again. He doubts the Traveller would attempt to hurt him, not physically at least. He sharpens his eyes further, trying to prepare for an emotional wound, the kind that he’s scarred over and over from and continues to bleed.

“You are good. Lofty enough, cruel enough, and don’t take human lives seriously with your antisocial personality. You will ascend the throne.” The Traveller returns like he’s sussed Zhou Rongqi out, like he knows his aims and games.

He stares in shocked silence for a moment, feeling both stripped a little bare and completely misunderstood. He wonders what makes the Traveller think he wants  _ power _ , there is nothing Zhou Rongqi has ever wanted less in his life. Power is just an excuse to hurt other people and a siren song for people to hurt you.

He is lofty cruel and unattached, and he won’t argue that. It’s something he’s  _ proud _ of, it’s something he’s made himself so his brother can’t ever scar him again. He’d grown up in a palace where his life had been a hell, and his brother hadn’t been able to hurt him so had hurt everyone else instead.

It was far worse that way, and he wonders if perhaps his brother  _ could _ have hurt him but thought it better this way. Knew it would hurt like nothing else could.

  
  


“Who said that I want the throne?” Zhou Rongqi asks calmly instead. Curious to see how the Traveller will react to that.

“Aren’t you killing the Emperor?” the Traveller asks, sounding confused like it’s really that simple. Like Zhou Rongqi is that simple and common.

“Yeah,” he replies, tilting his head back towards the Traveller, challenge clear.

There’s a pause as the traveller clearly wants him to elaborate, but there’s nothing to elaborate on. He’s killing the Emperor and that’s the whole truth of it. He’s not surprised that the Traveller had worked it out, he’s clearly an intelligent man.

Liu Wenzhong had been smart, but he’d had a wide eyed childish belief in people, optimistic to boot. Even as he played the flute and died in Zhou Rongqi’s rooms that had been clear to see. Again, Zhou Rongqi is both painfully and gratefully aware that this is a different man in front of him.

“Aren’t you killing the Emperor to usurp the throne?” the Traveller asks at last, sounding both confused and as if this would be common fact.

“No.” Again, he doesn’t elaborate. He’s always been a man of few words, and he doesn’t see the point in going into extravagant detail about his treason in some random street. Even if he does mostly own this town.

  
  


“Then after the Regicide who will be the Emperor?” the Traveller asks, a crease forming between his brows and a slight worried inflection filling his tone. The Traveller’s bold audacity when interacting with him finally dropping off slightly.

“None of my business,” Zhou Rongqi responds nonchalantly, still walking along.

The Traveller falls into a contemplative and worried silence. They don’t speak another word for the rest of the walk home.

  
  


* * *

The Traveller stares at him with a growing horror over the rim of his cup as Zhou Rongqi calmly agrees that yes, many people will die for his plan to succeed. That yes, potentially his entire state and all these people around them will suffer for it.

That yes, he is going to die and he’s over it. He doesn’t see the point in being extravagant about it. There is no way in which both he, and the Traveller come out of this alive.

The Traveller may as well live. That should count well enough as living for Liu Wenzhong, at least one of them is. Liu Wenzhong’s eyes will still be able to see the world and Zhou Rongqi can pay for failing him. Maybe he’ll open his eyes in another world.

_ Maybe _ his brother was just misguided.  _ Maybe _ Liu Wenzhong is still alive and it’s not a stranger (except the Traveller's not a stranger) staring back at him through the eyes of the most important man in his life.

“You are a good person.” The Traveller burbles, clearly drunk.

He smiled a little, not sure whether to feel flattered or sick beneath the shock, “I am a good person?” he questioned. The man who he’s  _ imprisoned _ thinks he’s good. Nausea or flattery?

“There must be a glimpse of light of humanity that did not vanish and is still remaining in the depth of that inhuman heart of yours. It’s all the system’s fault. It’s the system’s fault.” The Traveller rambles, gesticulating wildly.

Zhou Rongqi squints a little at that.

“Your Highness, turn back and the shore is there.”

He raises his cup and gulps the wine, “I am too far away from the shore.” There is no redemption for him, there is no more life. He has made his bed and he is more than content to lie on it.

* * *

“Go travel around. Go visit the mountains and seas for me,” he tells the Traveller the night before the banquet, once he’s told the Traveller that he is going to die. That the Traveller is free to go. Liu Wenzhong would have wanted him to see the seas.

(This is after he’s choked out the Traveller for saying that maybe his brother and mother wouldn’t want him to die for his revenge. He doesn’t care anymore. He loved them, loves them, but he can’t do what Liu Wenzhong wants.)

Maybe the Traveller can live for him like he couldn’t live for Liu Wenzhong.

* * *

“ I left some silver for you. Let nature take its course.” He tells the Traveller before he walks out of the room and to his revenge twenty three years in the making and his death. Soon it will be over and he can’t feel anything, sad or regretful. Anticipation or relief. It will be what it will be.

The Traveller will live, live better than most travellers if he keeps working on disguising his nature as a traveller.

“Goodbye…” the Traveller says to his retreating back and Zhou Rongqi carefully does not react. Acts like he hasn’t heard at all.

It has come to this.

At least one person he cares about may outlive him.

* * *

A scream from a maid grabs his attention as he makes his way through his palace. It’s coming from the Traveller’s rooms and a sick worried  _ broken _ feeling floods through him. His mouth is too dry because nothing should be happening- the Traveller knows he has his freedom.

The Traveller and his fucking insistence (just like Liu Wenzhong) that he should  _ live _ . He can think of things that would cause that scream and they all send that old familiar,  _ hated _ shiver of utter weakness up his spine. He picks up the pace despite himself- because he’s going to be dead soon- he  _ is _ . So what does it matter if someone sees him  _ run _ ?

The Traveller is convulsing and vomiting blood on the floor, a letter lays on a table beside him. A quick skim over it tells him exactly what he had suspected.

_ Live for yourself once too. _

_ Life is beautiful, you want suffer any losses _ .

  
  


No, no he won’t. Just the pain of watching the light fade out of Liu Wenzhong’s eyes twice. Just watching the body of the person he had cared about most in the world twitch himself into a painful grave.

  
  


The Traveller has signed the letter “Li Ke.” 

  
  


_ Li Ke _ , that’s his name. Something Zhou Rongqi had tried to avoid, diligently worked to not know, first so that he wouldn't’ feel so  _ real _ , so that he could cling onto Liu Wenzhong. Then because he hadn’t wanted to  _ care _ , had wanted to keep that last degree of separation between them as he  _ had _ started to care, because if he didn’t know the man’s identity then no one could trip his name out of Zhou Rongqi’s lips.

  
  


You don’t know  _ anything _ , you don’t know anything  _ at all _ , Li Ke. He thinks angrily, full of desperation as he leans down to stare into his friend’s eyes.

(Which friend?)

Everyone has always told Zhou Rongqi to live for them. But he can’t, he’s always had the softest parts of him in other people, and without them he  _ can’t _ .

How can life be beautiful when there’s no one in it?

He leans closer, wanting to grab out to Li Ke, and wanting to shake him, comfort him,  _ help _ him.

There are no mushrooms left.

“If you are angry, please whip my corpse after I die. This body isn't mine anyway.” Li Ke gasps as he coughs up mouthful after mouthful of blood. Memories of both his mother’s painful bloody death and Liu Wenzhong’s comparatively peaceful one play out in front of his eyes, turning into this grotesque tableau in front of them.

“Do you know who Liu Wenzhong was?” He asks, trying to make Li Ke understand. Understand why there is no point in Zhou Rongqi going on to live his life. Not sure how Li Ke could have misunderstood everything even now when he’d always been so brash and assertive. Digging and negotiating and  _ pushing _ .

He is almost  _ angry _ at the push to  _ whip _ the body, Li Ke’s body, Liu Wenzhong’s body. Wants to shout and to leave. Unless of course that’s what Li Ke is trying to push him towards.

Bolshy and pushy and poking boundaries until the end.

There are no tears for great sadness.

  
  


“Your buttbuddy?” Li Ke gasps, and Zhou Rongqi wants to scream. Wants to squeeze something and wants to cry. “Butbuddy”, fucking  _ “Buttbuddy _ .”

Liu Wenzhong had been the best man in his life. And now Li Ke is dying in front of him, but his eyes are the same as Liu Wenzhong’s.

  
  


Zhou Rongqi said, “Liu Wenzhong was my best friend. A distant friend.” He says, recalling his earlier words from the day they had visited the brothel. But this time he says the truth, let’s Li Ke know who Liu Wenzhong was. And lets him know why he  _ really _ had to kill the Emperor.

The Emperor, his brother would be laughing himself sick if he could see this. Could see Zhou Rongqi crouched over the dying body of a man who looked exactly like his best friend, the man he had loved most.

Li Ke’s breaths are coming ever shorter and Zhou Rongqi wants to cry.

He curls his lip, there are no tears for great sadness.

“I regretted it,” he whispers. Liu Wenzhong’s death, and refusing to see Li Ke, and then seeing Li Ke. Not living like Liu Wenzhong had wanted, not living with Li Ke now that Li Ke is dying and Zhou Rongqi is alone again.

No one is going to live on for him, no one is going to outlive him or live on in his place for Liu Wenzhong.

Li Ke is dead, and once more Zhou Rongqi is alone in this room mourning this body and the man who had lived within it.

  
  


This time no one new rises to take his place.

  
  
  


There are no mushrooms, and no tears and no one left to live for him.

Live for me, Liu Wenzhong had asked.

Live for  _ you _ , Li Ke had told him.

There are no mushrooms and his brother wants him  _ gone _ .

Someone needs to live.

* * *

Liu Wenzhong had been too good for him and Zhou Rongqi could never live for him, never do him the justice he deserved.

Maybe he can try to live for himself. Maybe he can visit the mountains and the oceans, Liu Wenzhong would have liked that.

Li Ke would have liked that Zhou Rongqi would like to do that.

He stands up at last and goes to find a guard.

There is a dead body that needs disposing of, and then he has to smile and make nice for his brother one last time.

* * *

He leads a long and interesting life. The world is full of people wanting power and lusting for control. He watches uninvolved, uncaring.

They are interesting though.

  
  


He doesn’t talk to them. He can’t be attached again. Never again.

He dies alone in bed, and hopes that maybe Li Ke can finally forgive him. Zhou Rongqi has lived his whole life, lived it as much as he could bring himself too. Lived it in lieu of everyone he has cared for.

He blinks and Li Ke is grinning at him.

“Nowadays reactions like yours are so rare,” the man says, grin as bolshy and needling as ever.

Zhou Rongqi looks at this man and thinks of everything he has seen.

“It was… interesting,” he tells Li Ke. Then he seals his lips on the subject. “Don’t tell my Guards you’re a traveller this time,” he says also, a plan forming in his mind.

Li Ke laughs.

Perhaps those who die open their eyes in another world. This may be an old one but Zhou Rongqi can make it into a new one.


End file.
